


The Last Farewell

by ElDiablito_SF



Series: Snippets in Time [21]
Category: Les Trois Mousquetaires | The Three Musketeers Series - Alexandre Dumas, d'Artagnan Romances (Three Musketeers Series) - All Media Types
Genre: Goodbyes, Grief, I never wanted to publish this to AO3, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-29
Updated: 2020-05-29
Packaged: 2021-03-03 00:08:07
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 365
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24445576
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ElDiablito_SF/pseuds/ElDiablito_SF
Summary: Goodbye.
Relationships: Athos/Aramis
Series: Snippets in Time [21]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/48402
Comments: 5
Kudos: 33





	The Last Farewell

**Author's Note:**

  * For [speakmefair](https://archiveofourown.org/users/speakmefair/gifts).



> This fic was originally published on LiveJournal in February 2011 and I never planned to publish it here because, quite frankly, it's too sad, and never should've been written.
> 
> But today I learned that my dear friend Rio aka Speakmefair aka the woman who inspired me to write like the wind and introduced me to my wife is no longer with us. And it feels right to post this here in her honor. 
> 
> Rio, we will always remember you. I never thought you'd be the first of us to go. My heart is broken. _In saecula saeculorum._

Having received absolution from the only man who mattered, what more remained to be said? With Raoul discretely removing himself and Porthos back in the saddle, Aramis walked back towards Athos with anvil-weighed steps, and embraced him.

“Aramis,” the other man whispered, his arms palpably shaking as he wrapped them around his comrade for what felt very much like the last time. “I…”

“Don’t,” the prelate begged. “This is not good-bye.”

“It feels like good-bye.” Athos felt himself unable to let the other man go. “Forty years,” he whispered. “I don’t know what to say. We spoke of everything else.”

“And about thirty of those forty years ago, I made you a promise,” Aramis whispered back, his face hidden in his friend’s long, graying hair. “And I shall keep it.”

“Aramis, don’t go,” the other man sighed more than spoke.

“I have always loved you and I always will.” With these words, Aramis broke their embrace and looked warily back towards the horses.

“Thank you for coming here.”

“Thank you for the horses.” Aramis knew if he tarried another moment, all would be lost for all three of them. He felt a familiar grip of a hand on his arm.

“That can’t be the last thing you ever say to me.”

“I will write,” Aramis responded, his voice no longer steady. He quickly mounted, fully aware that the hand of Athos still held the bridles of his horse, in much the same way it always held his own life.

“I will find you,” Athos said, louder, in part speaking to Porthos as well, though his eyes never left the two glowing orbs of the man who had once been his entire world. “I will find you again, in this world, or the next.”

“And I you.”

It was so much less than what he wanted to say, but it was the only thing that truly mattered. He put spurs to his mount and led the way out of the gates for Porthos, who followed him, as he always had, without a shadow of any doubt, and always with an open heart. I shall never see you more. I shall always love you. _In saecula saeculorum._


End file.
